It Began with Luck: Captain's Story
by Milkymoon101
Summary: The Directorate is at war, and they need help. Dr. Gromov finds Z, also known as Subject Seven, the one man who might save them. But he might just destroy the world in the process.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginnings of Zee Mug

**A/N – I know that Captain seems really OOC, but this is before he became Captain and lost his mind. Also, the operation = "We've altered your DNA, we've twisted your chromosomes" from the Que Sera video. And this is my first story, sorry if it sucks.**

Chapter I- The Beginnings of the Mug

It's World War Three. In every country, there are rebels. This Conspiracy has been hidden for many years. And it turns out I was born into it.

My parents are somewhat high in the German branch of the Conspiracy. It has a longer name in reality, but it doesn't matter to me. I hate it regardless. We live on the edge of the Dead Zone. It's scary at times, like when I was six and had my eyeball juices put in danger by a filthy radioactive hippy. And he thought I was a girl. I'm somewhat worried about that. Then again, I was wearing my gas mask, so it's hard to tell.

The point is that I don't want to be one of the Rebels. I would gladly join the Directorate Forces. They are doing good, not evil. The Conspiracy kidnaps and tortures Directorate soldiers until they spill their secrets. They attack without purpose, their only wish to rule. I get the feeling it would be horrible to live under the Conspiracy's rule. They're bad enough as it is. They talk of the things the Directorate has done angrily, not realizing that they are doing far worse.

But now it's too late to leave. My parents have had planned for me to be the next leader of the rebels. And they are engineering me to be unstoppable.

They summoned me into their chambers today. "Z," Mother said, "We have something to tell you." I tensed. They would usually just leave me to the tutors. It was rare for them to even speak with me.

My father stood. "We have set the date for your operation," he said quietly.

A chill ran through my body. "My… Operation?"

"You are Recruit Z, son," Mother said. "We didn't name you, the Conspiracy did. You are part of the Conspiracy's plan, named specifically so you could be identified. We were against this, but it's for the good of the world. You will undergo a procedure that will make you, how shall I say… Superhuman. You will lead our armies. You will make us win."

That was definitely a shock.

"I- What?" I shouted "No! I don't want to be a mutant!"

"I'm sorry, Z. It's a done deal," Mother said sternly. Father looked at me apologetically.

"I- I'd rather DIE!" I screamed, and ran. I dashed through the wastes, not even caring that I had no gas mask on. I wasn't sure where I was until I stopped, breathless, at a chain-link fence: The only border separating rebel territory from Directorate land. It was there I sat for a while, contemplating my options. My only choices were to be operated on or die. I briefly thought about running to the Directorate, but I knew I was too cowardly for such measures. Stupid, stupid me.

A rustle of dead leaves and garbage woke me from my thoughts. I jumped, and then sighed from relief. Sarah.

Sarah was a girl born to the Directorate. She is my only friend in this world, probably because she is the only other person my age that I have met.

"Hi, Z. I was hoping you'd be here," She said softly.

"Good. Save me," I said glumly. A look of concern came over her face.

"What's wrong?"

"My parents are evil! They're trying to turn me into a mutant weapon!" I burst out, the covered my mouth. It was important not to be heard in the wastes, and I probably had just blown my cover.

"Oh my… Well, then this is probably well-timed." She smiled, and produced a package from her coat. She passed it through one of the many holes in the fence. I opened it to reveal a mug with a rough black strip painted around it. One side had a roughly-painted red heart on it.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I smiled. It somehow managed to cheer me up immediately.

"It's great!" I said.

All of a sudden, a shout disrupted the scene. "Found him!" A voice echoed through the broken city. I whirled around and ducked just in time. Bullets ricocheted off of the remains of houses destroyed by the bombs. Sarah ducked too. Men flooded into the area surrounding the border. Before I could escape, they grabbed me by the arms. I saw that some of them had climbed the fence and had grabbed Sarah. All I knew was that I had my mug and that was all that mattered. "You're going to the surgeon, kid!" Someone said. I felt a pinch in my neck. Then everything faded to black.

**New Chapter coming soon!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Lucky Escape

Chapter 2- Escape

I woke up lying in a hospital bed. Every inch of me burned. The first thing I noticed was that everything was much brighter and sharper than I was used to. The second was that I had my mug sitting next to me on a bedside table. It was steaming, filled with a substance. Tea, I guessed.

The pain subsided a bit, letting me get a better idea of my surroundings. It was clean, bright, and shockingly white: a far cry from my dirty bomb-destroyed living quarters. I stood up gingerly, wincing in pain. I noticed a full-length mirror to the side of my room. I walked up to it and gasped.

My hair was now streaked with purple, and I was a lot more muscular than before. But most importantly, my eyes were now a piercing violet.

The creak of a door startled me. My parents and a white-coated doctor entered. The doctor looked at me in awe.

"How fascinating… Your eyes changed!" He whispered. "What else? Do you feel different? Stronger? Luckier even?" He walked up to me and examined me from all sides. That was when I began to feel uncomfortable.

I remembered something. "Where's Sarah?" I asked.

"And your hair… the tinting!"

I was growing impatient. "Where's Sarah?" I asked again, an edge to my voice that I had never heard before. I edged closer to the bedside table.

"Sarah? Oh, the… girl" Mother said dryly. "She was captured, I'm sorry to say. Would you wish to see her?" She clearly was angry at me, but was refraining from exploding in public.

"Yes, please." I said coldly. _Two can play at this game_, I thought.

"Guards!" She called. Two men came in. I froze. Hey were holding Sarah by her arms.

"Z! HELP ME!" She shouted. "THEY'LL KILL ME!"

"Shush, stupid girl. Don't disturb our patient. His life is FAR more valuable!" The doctor muttered.

Then I just lost it.

"Let her go! She's my friend! The directorate isn't the enemy, they're the good guys!" I screamed. "Now LET. HER. GO!" Without thinking, I took the mug and sloshed the scorching tea all over the doctor.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The doctor shouted, shaking off the tea. The guards dropped Sarah and made for me.  
>"Save yourself, Sarah!" I yelled. The guards were closing in on me when I saw my only escape route: The window. <em>Don't let me die so young<em>, I prayed. I grasped my mug tightly and jumped.

The strange stuff only began when I landed on both feet.


	3. Chapter 3: Project Seven

**A/N: This is in Engie/Dr. Gromov's POV. Not all the chapters are going to be in Captain's POV, so we can see all sides of the story.**

Chapter 3- Project Seven

I was doing my daily routine, making sure everything was in order. After buying a sadly overpriced cup of coffee, I went down into the supercomputer room to work on my new project: Seven.

Recently, the Biology Department has discovered that luck is a physical form of energy, and, if strong enough, it can affect a person's surroundings. I am doing research to find the luckiest person on the planet so that he or she can lead Directorate troops to victory. For weeks, I've been running ANNET's supercomputers, trying to find this person. ANNET has scanned every person on the planet by now- I hoped that she had found Seven. To my delight, she had.

"Annie! You've done it!" I exclaimed, rushing to the large screen in the center of the room. More often than not, the research I do requires calculations that would exceed the capacity of the human mind, so I use a screen. At the moment, it was lit up with a profile of a man. The mother E.I. of ANNET hung from the ceiling, pointing towards me.

_:It was very difficult, but I managed. You engineered me well.: _She said. I smiled. It was true.

I looked over the profile of the man.

:_Name: Z. Gender: Male. Age: 17. Nationality: German. Alliance: ICM.:_ Annie dictated. My hopes sank. He was on the side of the International Conspiracy of Majesty, the force we were at war with. But I wasn't going to give up so easily.

"Any pictures?" I asked. The screen lit up with an image of a tall teenage boy. He had brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. But then…

_:Updating. Please Hold.: _Another picture came on screen. It was clearly the same person, but he now had purple streaks in his hair and brilliant violet eyes. A caption read: "Test 1- recruit Z. Genetic Modification level 7." Wow. Now all I had to do was find him.

"Annie, zero in on him with one of your tower cameras. I need to track his location," I said. The screen filled with a live video feed.

Just in time for me to see him jump out of a window.

"NO!" I shouted. But wait! He landed on his feet? He really was the luckiest man on Earth!

I continued watching the video feed. He was holding… a mug? How strange. He was running away from the building he had jumped out of. Two gas-masked men chased after him. He was escaping! He wasn't one of the rebels after all!

I watched, flabbergasted, as he and his pursuers reached the so-called "border" between Directorate and ICM territory, which is just a broken chain-link fence. Z shot the soldiers a look of pure hatred and, mug still in hand, jumped over the fence as if it was nothing.

The video shut off, Z's profile reappearing on the screen. _:Have you seen enough?: _ ANNET asked.

"More than. Thanks, Annie." Connecting via my mind, I found Z's profile again. I added it to the end of a summary I had written on Project Seven. I sent it out to all of the workers along with a short message saying that he would be here in around a week- something I would make sure of soon. Then I remembered. "Charles. Right. Well, he's important enough, I'll just give it to him." I printed the document on my office's printer. I pretty much only had it for anomalies like Snippy.

"Bye, Annie-girl. I would be nowhere without you." I said. Whistling cheerfully, I left to deliver the papers to Charles. This was turning out to be a very productive day.


	4. Chapter 4: Bad Idea, Gromov

Chapter 4- This won't turn out well

I was doing paperwork at my desk, trying desperately to not fall asleep. I simply couldn't afford it. It's ridiculous.

Papers were everywhere. I envy ANNET users. It would be much neater to store documents in your head.

My train of thought was interrupted when a thick lump of papers were plopped onto my desk. I looked up to see none other than Dr. Gromov, the creator of ANNET. Something good must have happened because he looked positively giddy with excitement.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked, grinning broadly. _Ha ha,_ I thought. He continued. "I've succeeded! We've found Seven!" He exclaimed. Seven? Oh, right. His new project. I think it's crap. Luck will win you a million dollars, not a war. I sighed as I took the papers. I flipped to the back to examine his picture.

"What's with his eyes?" I asked irritably. I didn't have time for photoshop-edited failures.

"He was forcibly genetically modified by the ICM." Gromov responded. "His luck was affected, too. If he doesn't win us the war, no one will." Genetically modified, huh? Interesting…

"Christophorus is going to retrieve him from Germany. He's been identified by the Directorate force." Dr. Gromov said. Oh God… This really was pathetic. Hatchenson? Seven's got to be lucky if he gets back here in one piece with him as his pilot. The guy was a moron.

"Isn't he, er, a bit young to lead our army, though? I mean, would you really trust a seventeen-year-old with our troops?" I asked hesitantly. Honestly, Gromov may be a genius, but he sure is crazy.

"He'll be eighteen before his training is over. And face it, Charles. He's our only hope" He kind of had a point there. But it's a weak hope.

"I guess." I said sleepily.

"Are you okay, Snippy? You seem an inch away from passing out," Gromov commented.

"I am. Wouldn't be if I could afford sleep. And my dream composer's _still _broken." It certainly was. His stupid dream composer is the cause of my nightmares, and they were becoming unbearable. I had just dreamed of being in a train crash. And the idiot I was with abandoned me to hang from the ceiling.

"I'm busy too. I can't deal with every little thing involving my technology," he said. I could tell that what little patience he had with me was running out. "Like with ANNET. You're only one in several billion people, don't expect any special treatment." And he left. I think I just ruined his good mood. Serves him right.

The business with ANNET is a bit of a sore spot with me. People act like it's something I should be ashamed of, that I can't connect. Some idiot even called me a hipster. Needless to say, they were in trouble.

When ANNET was first connected, there had been an opening meeting for all the directorate workers. It had been around a year and a half ago. I had been nineteen. Everyone had already been given their headpieces. Gromov had come onstage in the meeting room. After a brief explanation, we were all summoned down to the Core Room. Some people had never even been to the Third Level, let alone the headquarters of the world's biggest computer. I was one of the few that got into the actual room. Alex had been standing next to some kind of a robotic hub hanging from the ceiling. The room was an impressive sight- Supercomputers everywhere aside from a small area in the center with a large screen and a desk.

Gromov pushed a button on the side of the hub. All the supercomputers buzzed to life and the screen lit up. There where whoops and cheers from the crowd. I had no clue what was going on. A strange buzzing filled my ears. Suddenly a splitting pain erupted in my head. I tore off my ANNET device- an earpiece- and collapsed to the floor.

"WHAT IS THIS!" I shouted. The people around me were too busy on the ANNET to hear me. Except Gromov.

"What happened?" He asked. I picked myself off the floor.

"You call this great? Maybe as a MURDER WEAPON!" I yelled. "It SHOCKED ME!"

"The others don't seem to be having any problem… I'm not, anyway," Gromov said, looking puzzled. Suddenly he smacked his forehead. "Some genius I am! There's always a glitch! ONE! And then I can't forgive myself! I don't think it's compatible with your neural structure. I thought this might happen to a few people." He groaned. "I'm sorry, but this is just too small of a problem for something that's to be used worldwide. I'll see to it that you get physical copies of all documents. I don't know how much of a problem this will be, though." And he left to speak with the crowd.

And look where I am now! In this underpaying desk-job. Not enough money to buy sleep (seriously, how do you copyright physical behavior?) and whatever sleep I get is filled with horror. The new transmitter towers that transmit brainwave frequency give me constant migraines.

But I get the feeling that this new Project Seven will change a lot of things.

**A/N: This was a pain to write. So many detailssss…**

**ALSO! VERY IMPORTANT!**

**Mr. Alexius's computer has died! Help him save zee deliciousness that is RomAc!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Flight

Chapter 5- The Flight

I had been captured.

I had expected it, really. It's not hard to see a person running for their life, especially when everything else there has been burned to the ground.

The Directorate guards had grabbed me. They were stationed by some kind of bomb shelter a short distance from the fence. They took me underground into the shelter. Inside, there was a network of hallways that I realized must run under the entire dead zone. They were dimly-lit with blue lights. I was taken through one long one that ended in a large room lit with the same eerie lights.  
>I was surprised to find out that they weren't going to hurt me. I was taken to a chair on one side of the room. There was a large control panel-type thing- I wasn't quite sure what it was- in the center. Several people were standing around it. They were having some kind of long-distance conversation with what I guessed was someone from the Directorate headquarters in England.<p>

I waited for several hours. People in uniforms would come and speak to me, ask me questions. They offered to take my mug. I refused.

At this point I had no idea what they were going to do to me. They were acting as if I was a guest of honor, even though they were sort of holding me hostage. And everybody had little blue headpieces. They must have served some purpose; I doubted there was room for decorative wear when there's a war going on. Everybody called me Seven until I told them my name was Z. They seemed to find that strange, to have a letter for a name, but they still stopped. It's no better than being called a number.

Then somebody came in who was acting very excited. He was saying something about a plane that had landed and a guy named Hatchenson.

Some more people entered with a man not in the uniform that the Directorate workers had. He was wearing a black bomber jacket and had a pair of green aviator goggles perched on his head. He was rather short, and had light brown hair. His eyes were of a similar color to his goggles. He walked up to me slowly, looking extremely shocked. I stood up defensively.

"What?" I asked. Then it occurred to me that he might not understand German. I switched to English, which I knew thanks to the tutor my parents hired for me. "Who are you?" I asked. My accent was very thick, but at least I could speak. The pilot was still looking shocked. He was also wearing a blue headpiece, I noticed.

"You-you're Subject Seven!" He exclaimed. His voice was American-accented and fairly squeaky. He walked around me slowly. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Z! Do you know how important you are? I mean, you're like the freaking MESSIAH!" This guy had a screw loose…

"I, er, thank you," I said awkwardly. "Mister Hatchenson?" He gasped.

"You actually know my name? I am so glad it was I that was sent on this mission!" He said, half to himself. "We're taking you to the HQ. There's WAY too much for me to explain- In short, Dr. Gromov has a project and you're a part of it." I was going to the headquarters? Why was I important all of a sudden? And who was Dr. Gromov? Well, I got what I wanted, didn't I? No use complaining.

I was led by Hatchenson to a cavernous round room. I gasped; there was a plane with a camouflage paintjob in the center. The ceiling had large cracks in it in a spiral pattern.

"This is your ride, Seven!" Hatchenson said. I blinked. I had never even seen a plane before. This was all very sudden…

The pilot opened the cockpit doors. "Climb in!" He said excitedly. He tossed me a pair of purple goggles that were similar to his but smaller. "You'll need these." I climbed cautiously into the co-pilot seat. Suddenly, the floor jolted upwards. The ceiling spread apart like the lens of a camera. Once we were at ground level, Hatchenson started the plane. We picked up speed. I felt a bump as the plane lifted off the ground.

"Cool, amiright? Right?" the pilot said giddily. We were rising quickly. _This was the strangest thing yet,_ I thought, clenching the mug tightly.

"So, you're taking me to zee headquarters, Mr. Hatchenson?" I asked.

"Yep! And call me Chris. We'll be there in around two hours."

We got lost.

And somehow managed to fly over enemy territory.

Chris had to do some _very _imaginativemaneuvering to get us out of the situation. They were shooting at us. They missed, thankfully, but all of the swerving was making me a bit woozy.

"I bet it's your luck, Z," Hatchenson said, laughing nervously as we swerved particularly violently to avoid a missile. "Luckiest man alive, you are. That's why they want ya!" Well, that explains how I survived a ten-story jump.

It eventually took around four hours to get to England. The Directorate City was a beacon of light in a deserted landscape. You could spot it from miles away, which I in fact did. As we got closer, I saw that there was an enormous cube-shaped building in the center of the city. It was sending out large floodlights to penetrate the darkness. This was sort of unnecessary, since the city was extremely light-polluted.

We approached ground until we touched down softly on a track near the cube. After we stopped taxiing, Chris opened the cockpit doors again.

"You can take the goggles off now. They're yours, by the way. My gift." He said happily. I barely heard him. I was too busy taking in the surroundings. I had never been in a non-destroyed city, let alone one with a war HQ. "Man oh man. Gromov's gonna tan my hide for being so late… Oh well. At least you get a midnight entrance.

We walked around the cube to the front doors. It was a wide mouth of a door, glowing orange-yellow from inside.

"Your time to shine, Seven." Hatchenson said. He pushed a button and the door spread wide open.

I walked in and everything erupted into cheering.

**A/N: This is unintentionally far longer than the other chapters… what.**

**Also, I've always thought of Pilot not as the youngest. I think he lost his memory when ANNET crashed. But that is another chapter…**


	6. Chapter 6: The GOOD Directorate

Chapter 6- The GOOD Directorate

The first floor of the G-Cube was filled with people. Huge crowds stood around. I gulped, realizing that they had been waiting for me.

"Whoa…" I breathed, looking around. There were at least a dozen stories to the cube. They all had skylights in the floors, allowing me to see all the way up to the top floor.

The crowd's cheering had formed into shouts of "SEVEN! SEVEN!" It was utterly unnerving, to see so many people treating me like a hero. Not that I'm complaining…

There was an aisle that cut the room in two. Chris and I walked down it. It felt like a spotlight was on me. If there actually had been, I probably wouldn't have noticed anyway, what with all the little blue lights filling the room. I saw that there was a man standing at the end of the aisle.  
>"That's Dr. Gromov, your boss. You can thank him for all of this. The guy's a flippin' GENIUS! I mean, he created ANNET and everything!" Chris babbled excitedly.<br>"What's ANNET?" I asked, confused.

"You mean you don't KNOW?" Chris exclaimed. "It's the Neural Network! That's what the little headpiece-light-thingies are for." That would have been a good explanation if I had known what a Neural Network was.

Gromov rushed up to meet us in the middle of the aisle. He was very tall, with auburn hair and sort of amber eyes. He was wearing a lab coat and was holding a microphone.

"And you must be Z! Hatchenson, we'll deal with you later." He said, shaking my hand. His voice was accented with Russian. He then spoke into the microphone. "LADIES AND GENTLMEN! I PRESENT TO YOU Z, THE MAN THAT WILL ENSURE OUR VICTORY!" The cheering and applause increased in volume.

"Follow me, Z." Gromov said happily. "I'd like some people who have higher clearance to meet you." He led me to a roped off part of the room. A sign said, "THIRD LEVEL CLEARANCE AND UP ONLY." As soon as we got in, people rushed up to me. In seconds, I was being bombarded with questions. What I like, what Conspiracy life was like, even what was my favorite food and did I like country music. I noticed that only one person was staying out of my way- a man in a black-and-white jacket off to one side of the room.

"Excuse me," I said distractedly. Who was this guy and why did he have no interest in me? I walked up to him. "Hello?" I said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"BWAH!" He yelped, and whirled around. He looked half asleep. I heard someone in the crowd mutter, "Don't waste your time with Charles. He can't even connect to ANNET."

"Oh, it's _you_." The man- Charles- said bluntly. "Erm, nice to meet you. I wish you luck if you've got to deal with Gromov, by the way. He can get a bit obsessive."

"I don't believe it iz necessary to wish me luck, seeing as zat iz why I'm here in zee first place." I replied. I remembered that I was still holding my mug. I clenched the handle tighter, wishing for something hot to drink, or even better, to spill on this guy. He was certainly rude…

"Snippy! Quit bothering Seven. He's been on the run since this morning! Give him a break!" Dr. Gromov said, popping up behind me. Charles eyed him angrily. They clearly did not get along well.

"You didn't seem to have a problem when the other workers threw themselves on him," Snippy spat. Then he stalked off in the other direction, muttering something about nightmares.

"I'm sorry about Charles. He seems to think anything I think of is destined to fail." Gromov said apologetically. "But I guess the crowds would be a bit overwhelming… Come on," He said. "Excuse me, but Z has to go now," He shouted to the crowd. He wound his way through the masses of people, with me closely behind. We reached an elevator. Instead of up and down buttons, there was some sort of pad. Gromov put his hand against it and the elevator opened.

"You'll be living in the testing apartments. Higher-ranking people like me and test subjects live in the eleventh and 12th levels. The others are offices and testing facilities. " He said as we rose smoothly upwards. "I've made sure that sleep is free for you, and you'll be fitted for an ANNET transmitter after your testing's done." Testing? What was this man planning to do to me?

We came to a halt and the elevator door opened. The upstairs levels were similar to hotel hallways. Doors were on each side, with a blue carpet running down the hall.

"This is the twelfth level. The Director himself lives on the thirteenth. Even I haven't been there." Gromov said, leading me down the hall. We stopped at a door labeled "Seven." Gromov took a key from his lab coat pocket and unlocked the door. It swung open to reveal a white-painted room with light blue furniture and a bed with equally white sheets. Pajamas were laid on the bed, and a mirror hung on one side of the room. There was a door next to it, probably leading to a bathroom. A window opposite the door overlooked the Directorate city.

It was all very sterile and cold looking, similar to the hospital room I awoke in after my operation. I didn't like it at all. I was used to bomb shelters and brown, and to worn furniture with not even a trace of white. But it would have to do.

"You'll get room service for breakfast," Gromov told me. He looked at a clock that was hanging over the bed. "Oh dear, it's already past two o'clock! Z, get some rest. Testing begins tomorrow, and I think you'll need the energy. Good night!" And he left, without even explaining what this testing was. Sighing, I put on the pajamas and climbed into the unwelcoming bed. My mug was sitting on a bedside table, the only spot of color in this prison of white. I closed my eyes and drifted off to much-needed sleep.

**A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed! It's appreciated greatly. Also, it's hard to write in a German accent.**


	7. Chapter 7: Testing

Chapter 7- Testing

A sharp beeping woke me the next morning. I found that the source was a small digital alarm clock on the bedside table I had put my mug on. Either I had been too tired to notice it the previous night, or someone had brought it in. I smacked the off button sleepily. It was eight o'clock in the morning. Somebody had brought in some clean clothing, which was laid out on a chair. My mug was still on the bedside table, but cleaner looking. They must have washed it… How dare they without my permission!

I dressed in the clothes- all black shirt and pants, with a rather baggy black coat- and went to brush my teeth. The goggles Hatchenson had given me were hanging on a hook in the bathroom. I was not sure what the testing entailed, so I donned them just in case.

There was a note under the clothing. It read,

_Z,_

_Meet me in room 3046XB. That's the supercomputer room. We'll be doing your testing there. Try to hurry! I'll have breakfast waiting._

_ -Dr. G_

I stuffed the note in my pocket and took my mug. I left the apartment and made my way back to the elevator. I put my hand against the pad like I saw Dr. Gromov do the day before. The doors opened and I walked in. I was surprised to see that I wasn't alone in the elevator. A woman in a directorate uniform was standing in the elevator, her hands in her pockets. She looked up and smiled.

"You must be Seven!" She said brightly. I noticed that her eyes were tinted slightly with violet. Strange… "Welcome to the GOOD. Where're ya heading?"

"I'm going down to zee supercomputer room for, er, some kind of testing." I said awkwardly. I looked in the reflective wall of the elevator. The goggles I was wearing made me look a bit like an oversized beetle of some sort.

"Oh. Well- I guess I don't need to say good luck… But, um, don't die?" She said, a bizarre smile on her face. There was something very strange about that woman…

The elevator stopped. The door opened to what must have been level three. Office cubicles were everywhere. Some fish-tank-like testing rooms lined the enormous room, some with people inside. I had no idea where to find room 3046XB. I walked up to one of the cubicles to ask.

"Excuse me?" I said. The man at the cubicle turned around. _Damn it,_ I thought. It was that Snippy guy again.

"You again?" He said irritably. Then he stepped back, a look of fear briefly flashing on his face. "Oh, sorry, it's the goggles…" He said. I noticed he had dark circles under his eye, like he hadn't slept well in a long time. "You know, I somehow think I'm the luckiest man in the world, not you. BAD LUCK is luck too…" He trailed off his sentence. He snapped into focus again. "What do you want?"

"Where iz room 3046XB?" I asked. Charles groaned.

"Ugh, _Gromov_ again," He muttered angrily.

"What iz your problem with Gromov?" I asked.

"He is the cause of my nightma- Wait, why am I telling YOU?" Snippy exclaimed. "Well, the room's that way, to the right," He said, gesturing in the said direction. "You'll see a big gray door."

"Thank you." I said, turning to leave

"You'd better watch out, you know," Snippy cautioned. "I've heard that you'll have to do some pretty dangerous stuff. I suggest you escape while you can!"

"No."

"Well, don't blame me if you die." What was with the death threats today? It couldn't be that bad.

I went through the heavy doors. I found myself in a room filled with machinery. It extended through the greater part of Level Three. According to a map that was tacked to the wall by the entrance, it also extended down to the basement. Wow, neural networks must need a whole lot of power. In the center of it all stood a large computer monitor, a wide desk, and a chair. Some sort of contraption hung from the ceiling.

I cautiously approached the desk. The contraption-robot-thing swiveled in my direction, blue lights blinking on.

_:Who are you?:_ A digital voice emanating from the thing said to me. I jumped.

"Who-WHAT ARE YOU?" I yelped. "And where's Dr. Gromov?"

_:I am ANNET. Alex calls me Annie. You may not, Mr. *_ANALYZING_* Z.: _The robot replied.

"I'm –oof!-here." Gromov's voice came from under the desk. He emerged with a box of gadgets. Among the mess of machines- most of which I didn't recognize- I spotted a gun. I gulped. Maybe the threats weren't so invalid after all.

Gromov threw me bag that had been in the box. It contained the breakfast I had been promised. "Dig in!" He said cheerily, and set about to setting up the gadgets.

As soon as I had finished, Gromov took a DNA sample from me and had me hooked up to several machines at once. I had taken my goggles off and was sitting in the chair, wondering what it all meant. The huge screen was lit up with all sorts of figures. Gromov was in his element. He had said one of the things was an EEG (not that that information helped) and didn't specify the rest. He continued bustling about excitedly, the definition of mad scientist.

After an indefinite amount of time, he shut the screen off and unhooked me from the mess of machinery.

"This is great! All tests positive, mutated DNA, a real super-human!" He said, grinning.

_:Calm down, Alex! You're scaring the test subject.:_ ANNET said. She had been making useless commentary the whole time, and it was getting annoying. Gromov seemed to like it, though.

My attention was diverted from ANNET when I saw Gromov picking up the gun. I had a sudden urge to find a window to jump out of.

"What iz zat going to be for?" I asked nervously, not taking my eyes off of the gun.

_:Alex, you are an idiot.:_ ANNET remarked. _:Russian roulette? Honestly?:_ Gromov shot her an angry glance.

"I wasn't planning for this unless you got perfect results on the other tests. I thought you wouldn't, but you did. I'm fully confident that you'll be safe." Gromov said, holding out the firearm. Charles had been right, he was a complete madman! "You really don't have to. In fact I shouldn't have even suggested it. Nevermind." He turned to put the weapon back in the box of gadgets.

I suddenly had an urge to prove myself. "I vill do it." I said. I can jump from buildings, so why can't I win at this? I AM Seven, after all! Now Dr. Gromov was looking uncomfortable. "It was your idea in the first place, Gromov!" I said sharply.

"That's DOCTOR Gromov to you, Seven." He cautioned, but handed over the weapon.

"Who am I going against?"

"A bot I have here. It can operate even if it has been damaged." Gromov fished it out of the box and placed it on the desk next to me.

_:I'm recording.: _ ANNET announced.

Let's do this.

Gromov stopped me after half an hour. He had been sitting in shock as the bot was shot more times than I could remember. I sat here, alive against all odds

"What- How?" Gromov said, still looking stunned. "Well well! We really do have a winner on our hands!" His face broke into a grin. "We'll have you fitted for an ANNET transmitter tomorrow. I'll see to it that you have the rank of Captain in the Directorate. Gives you absolute clearance."

_:So fast, Alex? Are we sure we trust him?: _ANNET said warily.

"Yes, Annie-girl. What harm could he do?" Gromov replied. "You'll also be Captain of a squad, after all of your training's done." This was so much information! I'm practically a celebrity here! I can lead an army, piece of cake!

_ :Don't go giving him a big head just yet.: _ANNET chimed in.

"Do you have to comment on EVERYTHING?" Gromov snapped

_:Yes.:_

"Oh, I'll deal with you later," Gromov huffed. "Have a good day, Captain! And don't forget your goggles," He added, tossing them to me. I exited the supercomputer room and headed back to my apartment. Everybody I encountered on my way to the elevator congratulated me on the rank of Captain. Word spread fast here in the GOOD directorate.

I recalled what Chris had said to me when he met me. Something about me being the messiah. I had thought he was crazy then. But now Gromov has made me out to be the savior of the GOOD Directorate. And I'm starting to think he's right.

**A/N: The chapters just keep getting longer. And yes, I am including the beware-the-mug lady.**


	8. Chapter 8: ANNET

**A/N:** This one's in Pilot's POV. For some reason it's extremely difficult to write for him. He is mostly sane at this point.

Chapter 8- ANNET

I stood outside of the door, bouncing eagerly on the balls of my feet. It was such an honor! Dr. G said that Seven seemed comfortable around me, so I was to take him to get his headpiece. I am so glad that I can spend time around the savior of the modern world!

The door swung open, revealing Seven. He was wearing the goggles I had given him! And he was still holding the mug, which was filled with some kind of drink. Coffee? Tea? Whatever.

"Chris? What are you doing here?" He asked. He was kind of intimidating, being almost a foot taller than me and all.

"Doc Gromov sent me to accompany you when you get your ANNET transmitter." I said happily. "Come on!"

"I met ANNET yesterday. She was annoying." He commented, following me to the elevator. I had never been up to the top levels before- I only have third level clearance- so this was extra exciting.

"You MET HER? ANNET's a her?" I asked incredulously. "I thought it was a neural network!"

"I guess she's zee main body of zee network or something," Seven mused. "And it would help if somebody told me what a Neural Network was."

"OH! I guess it would be confusing for you, huh. It's the internet, only in your mind. You can browse while you sleep, and get information in your head when you're awake. And you can talk with it, like mind messaging. It's really cool!" I explained earnestly. Honestly, where has he been? Everybody knows this stuff. Geez, the rebels were missing out!

Seven was still looking slightly confused as the elevator arrived and opened. We stepped in. The headpiece center is on the second level. We got there and made our way past all of the offices to the store.

Inside, several long tables stood in the center of the room. They were all covered with all kinds of transmitters, most of which were waaay above my price range. Mine was pretty standard issue-a small earpiece thingy. Works like a charm, but I could go for something snazzier.

A few people were standing around, browsing through the options. A uniformed man came up to us.

"Captain! It's you!" He exclaimed. "And you must be Chris Hatchenson. Dr. Gromov informed me that you'd be here." He noticed me? How? Here was Seven in all his Captain-y glory and this guy has the time to mention me? I didn't know whether to be flattered or ashamed.

"So, I am here to get zee- transmitter?" Captain asked.

"Yes. Dr. Gromov said only the best quality headpieces for you, Captain." The salesman said. "It's great that you're here, by the way. We greatly need your assistance in this war. Come now, let me show you the options." He led the tow of us to a table towards the back of the room. The newest types of transmitters lay on it. I checked a price tag. Holy cow, these things cost a fortune!

Evidently, Seven had noticed the prices too. "How vill I be able to buy zis?" He asked.

"Gromov's paying for yours himself. You're a test subject, so you don't need to pay for most things." The salesman said cheerfully. "So, what do you like?"

Seven surveyed his options thoughtfully. "Zat one," he said, picking up a headpiece that wasn't too different from my own.

"Oh, yes, that. It's a great one, very effective. It'll pick up signals up to five miles underground!" The guy said. "Try it out!"

Uncertainly, Seven put on the headpiece. He stood in silence for a moment, probably too surprised to speak.

"What exactly do I do?" He asked.

"Just think. You'll be asked some questions to set up. Just think the answers. Simple!" I said.

We waited for him to figure it out for a bit. "So, you know him well?" The salesman asked.

"If two days is considered knowing someone well, then sure," I replied.

"Better than most people know him."  
>"I guess."<p>

"Even better than Gromov," he added. That was actually a good point… Wow, I actually know the amazing Captain better than the man who found him!

"I think I figured it out," Seven announced.

_:So can you hear me?:_ I ask Seven with a mind message.

_:This is really strange.: _ He replied, glancing at me. He had been wearing the goggle the whole time. The salesman didn't seem to be bothered by it. You did encounter some strange people at the Directorate, after all. I guess he'd be used to it.

"I think we're done here, sir," I said. "Thanks!"

"No problem. And I hope you enjoy ANNET, Captain! Dr. Gromov is a genius for inventing it- makes everything more convenient. Bye!" The salesman said, smiling.

We left the store.

_:So… what do you think?: _I asked Seven through ANNET.

_:Strange.: _He responded. _:Can we not talk like this? It's unnerving.:_

"'Kay," I said, reverting to speech.

"Thanks," he said. He seemed distracted. What had gotten into him?

"Did you store your memory on ANNET?" I asked. It was one of the most convenient parts of ANNET, in my opinion. Relieved stress, and protected memories.

"No, I didn't."

"WHY?"

"I trust my mind more than the internet," Seven said.

"Whatever you say, Captain," I said, shaking my head. I'm not one to question his judgment.

_:It's Dr. Gromov here.:_ I received a mind message.

_:Hi!:_ I replied.

_:Did Seven get the headpiece?:_

_:Yep!:_

_:Good. Tell him he's free for the rest of the week,:_ Gromov said. _:Thanks.:_

"What was zat about?" Seven asked. "You were actually silent!" Yeah, that's a bit of a first for me.

"No, I was just talking with Dr. Gromov," I explained. "He says you're off all week. So I guess you can just go do something around here. Or go out in the city, I guess. None of my beeswax what you do."

"Alright," he said nervously. I guess he wasn't given much free reign back with the ICM. "See you later." He left in the opposite direction. Waving goodbye, I headed down to the first level for some lunch, and spent the rest of my day wandering around the G-Cube. Seven never ceases to amaze me. I can't wait to see his skill on the battlefield.

I had decided something. I already served in the army, but I'm going to again. I want to be under Captain's command so I can be there when we win the war.

**I wasn't really satisfied with the chapter when I submitted it. I edited it a bit. Snippy is next!**


	9. Chapter 9: Guns and Traitors

Chapter 9- Guns and Traitors

I entered through the rusty gate of the gun range. It was owned by the Directorate (what wasn't these days?) and was not in very good condition seeing as it received very little funding.

Due to my ANNET deficiency, I didn't have to serve in the army, but things weren't going well there. The Directorate forces had started drafting people who had already served. Since they had already been in the army, they went through a shortened training period. There was a chance of me being drafted, too, even though I have had pretty much no experience, so my boss signed me up for separate training.

The gun range was very close to the dead zone, so it was advisable to wear gas masks. It was cold there, and had a lovely view of the wastelands caused by ICM bombing. Several years ago, enormous uranium deposits had been found in several places around the world, so nuclear weaponry was a large aspect of this war.

With a quick greeting to the guard in the storage room, I grabbed my mask and sniper rifle. Putting on the mask, I walked onto the range. Some other people were practicing at the far end of the range- a man, probably a paranoid veteran, and a woman in large purple goggles. I headed for the target I usually practiced on. It had many holes through it, since nobody bothered replacing the targets from time to time.

I loaded the rifle and shot at the target. It was a direct hit. I smiled smugly. I'm a pretty good shot, if I do say so myself. The gun range is the only place I can actually focus. I can escape my nightmares there. I feel more awake, no matter how little sleep I got that night. If there was any job option there- anywhere but the office, even the dead zone- I would take it in a blink of an eye.

I had just fired my second shot – this time a little bit off target, unfortunately- when I heard the gate squeak open. I turned to look and nearly fell over. It was Seven, accompanied by a couple of guards.

It had been a week since our previous encounter, when he had asked me for directions. It had been unnerving enough with the goggles alone, but with the full gasmask it was too close to home. He had a German accent, he had the mug, and I had heard he was being called Captain now… At first I had refused to believe it, even though I had been slightly suspicious since the first time we met, but now I couldn't deny it anymore. He was the man from my nightmares, the one that had been making my nightmare-life hell since the day ANNET went on air.

HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?

"What are you doing here?" I shouted across the range. One of the guards turned to speak with him, probably advising him to avoid speaking to the "invalid," but he walked towards me anyway. Oh God, I shouldn't have said anything.

"Zee question is what are YOU doing here?" He yelled back.

"Training. I'm assuming you are too, _Captain_." I said, emphasizing the title. He was definitely Captain, all right. Maybe a bit less arrogant and mental, but still.

"Why yes, he is," Another voice said authoritatively. Oh NO…

Gromov walked in through the gate, looking around cautiously. He looked uncomfortable outside of the G-Cube and his office. He was wearing a rather feminine-looking jacket with a furry hood instead of his usual lab coat, and a gasmask with orange goggles. He was hugging himself from the cold, and looking around as if afraid that something would jump out at him.

"Seven is here to start his training. He needs to be able to shoot. Basics like that. He _is_ going to be Commanding Officer, after all," Gromov explained.

"You're one to talk, Gromov," I sneered. "I bet you've never used a firearm in your life!" I fired another shot at the target, this time hitting it spot-on. Hopefully I sufficiently scared the two of them by doing that.

Gromov shifted his weight nervously. "Guns are for brutes," he said lamely. "I prefer to fight with intellect." Or he was just scared he would shoot himself by accident if he tried.

Gromov, Seven, and the guards headed for the storage room to select a gun. The purple-goggled girl waved to them. Seven waved back. Did they know each other? I went back to shooting,

Seven exited the storage room carrying a gun of some sort. I couldn't identify it on sight. He went up to the target next to me. Lovely.

"Do you even know how to shoot?" I asked, still concentrating on my target. I was doing well, considering I had gotten about four hours of sleep. Blasted nightmares.

"It was part of zee testing," He said, fiddling with the gun.

"Thought so. What was it?" I asked, looking over at him.

"Russian Roulette. Don't ask." Okay… More proof that Gromov was a madman.

I noticed that Gromov was standing near the gate with one of the guards. He was still looking uncomfortable, glancing around every few seconds. Paranoia much?

Seven loaded the gun and fired. He hit the target nearly dead center. His luck, surely. He looked at the hole in the target distastefully.

"I prefer tea as a weapon," He said.

"Hot beverages aren't much good on the battlefield, Seven," I pointed out. Though it had acted as a pretty effective weapon in the past… Well, in my nightmares. I didn't say that aloud, thankfully. People think I'm crazy enough as it is.

"Iz zat a sniper rifle?" Seven asked.

"Yeah."

"And your name is Snippy?"

"Yes…"

"Snippy-Sniper! Zat's nice." He said happily. "I'll call you Sniper." Another thing from my nightmares. I was getting increasingly worried.

Suddenly, the gate burst open. Gromov yelped as several armed soldiers entered.

"Move over, Dr. Gromov, there's a spy in our midst. He's been passing information to the ICM!" One of the men shouted. The man on the far end of the range grabbed his gun, which had been lying on the ground next to him. The rest was chaos. Captain stood motionless as the fight unfolded. Eventually, the soldiers won. The man was lying on the ground. I wasn't sure if he was unconscious or dead. They carried him out.

Gromov looked as if he was about to pass out. I clutched my gun tightly, looking around the range. Seven was still standing stiffly, staring at the gate through which the soldiers had gone through.

The lady in the purple goggles walked up to us. "People are deluding themselves if they think that it's all fine and dandy here in the Directorate City," She spat. "It's still a war zone here. Things like this happen all the time, but people ignore it. They're too wrapped up in their frivolous lives."

The guard in the storage room came out. "We're closing down for the day, folks!" He yelled. In silence, Seven, the girl, and I put away our weaponry. I preferred to store my mask at the range, but the others took theirs with them.

We left the range as a group, too disturbed by the previous events not to. Now that Captain had unfrozen himself, he looked extremely angry.

"Zat iz zee kind of people I had to deal with," He growled. He was holding the mug, which I hadn't noticed before. I assumed Gromov had been holding onto it for him.

Gromov had taken off his gasmask as soon as we left the range. He was very pale, and looked extremely shaken. He turned to Seven.

"This is why I found you," He said, laughing nervously. "You'll save the Directorate, Captain! There'll be no more of this when you lead our forces! Glad you're enthusiastic."

We reached the subway station I had come through. The woman left us with a brief goodbye, heading left once we were inside. The guards and Gromov left on the next train without so much as a goodbye. Seven went with them, muttering a "Guten nacht, Sniper," to me as he boarded. I waited around for my line, running back to the grungier part of the Directorate City. It was a rater long trip- my neighborhood was on the opposite side of town- and I had trouble staying awake on the way. Thankfully it wasn't too crowded.

That night I had a nightmare that was even stranger than usual. I was hanging upside down in some sort of a destroyed train solving a Rubix Cube while waiting for Captain, who had evidently forgotten all about me.


	10. Chapter 10: Brainwave

**A/N:** Sorry for the hiatus. I was busy. This chapter is a short one, I know- Next one up ASAP. Upside: IT'SSSS ENGIE.

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><p>Chapter 10- Brainwave<p>

I'm an overachiever. I pride myself in that. It's what has kept me out of the army and in my position as head administrator of the engineering branch of the GOOD Directorate. But it's a very demanding job. Not everyone can create a vast neural network to be distributed worldwide THAT FEEDS DIRECTLY INTO YOUR THOUGHT PROCESS in three years.

And now I was trying to eliminate the receivers. If I did this right, the network would broadcast directly into our minds, no receivers necessary.

Seven is another thing to think about. That was a project I thought of and proposed myself. And I think he'll succeed. He has been training for around a month now, and will take his position as C.O. by September. My research found his birthday was in July, but even he wasn't sure of the exact date. I had a cake sent to him on the seventh.

On this particular day, I was in my office puzzling over the topic of electrical signals. I was making progress, and would be able to make adjustments to Annie soon. I was working overtime, but it paid off. Progress, progress, progress!

A Directorate worker- a young woman- walked in, holding a paper bag and an envelope. I recognized her. She didn't really have a definite job, but mostly acted as a messenger for whatever items or rare personal documents that needed to be delivered. The front of her hair was slightly streaked with purple. I felt I recognized her from somewhere else… How strange.

"Your lunch, Doc," She said, handing me the bag. God, I hated it when people called me that, but I refrained from mentioning it. "You really should eat a bit, you know," she commented. "You look half dead!" _Not your place for commentary, miss. _I took the bag, placing it on my desk without opening it.

"Thank you," I said stiffly.

"No problem. By the way, there's a letter from you," She added. "From a Mr. Snipe- I mean, Snippy." She passed me the said letter. Oh great. I should have known- who else sends paper documents?

"Thanks again," I said. "Have a nice day," I said pointedly, hoping she'd take the hint. I couldn't afford useless chitchat. I had to get the first part of the ANNET update out within the month, and every second counted. She nodded, and exited quickly.

I opened the envelope, sighing exasperatedly. It read:

_To Dr. A. Gromov,_

_ I have inquired many times about when you will repair the faulty dream composer you gave me due to my incompatibility with ANNET. It has been causing horrific night terrors for me, and you had said you would repair it soon months ago. I had expected you to be slightly more true to your word. Please at least attempt to repair it as quickly as possible or I'm afraid I'll have to file a complaint._

_ Thank you,_

_ Charles Snippy._

I shook my head, folding up the letter. This again? He had sent a similar letter a month or so ago. I wrote a quick response, recommending a psychiatrist to help with the night terrors. I would have it delivered to him later. I opened the lunch bag and took a halfhearted bite of the sandwich, then put it aside. The woman had been right; I could do with some food- but not this crap.

As I went back to my work, I remembered something. The woman had almost called Snippy "Sniper." I knew I had recognized her from somewhere else- she had been at that horrific gun range. I hate guns, personally. Brutal instruments. I feel intelligence is a far better weapon-not that I'd ever use it as such, but it's true. When you're intelligent, then you know how to get to people. And that can bring them down as easily as any bullet.

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><p>Soo… Yep. Also, I somehow have this headcanon of the lady being a messenger in the Directorate, probably mainly between Snippy and Gromov since they are the only ones really using paper messages.<br>Please rate!


	11. Chapter 11: WWIII and Victory

**A/N: **Featuring double POV. I apologize for any horrific military inaccuracies. Also, Captain kind of snaps… But Pilot remains sane. For now.

Chapter 11- WWIII and Victory

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><p>Each morning I would awake to the sound of explosions.<p>

The bombings never stopped. I could see them from miles away. For the first few months, I had feared them, but I've gotten used to them by now. In fact, I find them rather lovely- the fiery cloud rising upwards. It is quite majestic. They would never fall on MY troops, though. They could not penetrate my luck.

Everyone told me of my luck. How much of it I had, how useful it would be. But I had never truly seen it in action until now. My troops won battle after battle under my command. The pitiful troops of the conspirators would be easily vanquished at my hand. I saw them die. Like the bombs, I had feared it before. But I realized how weak that was. What's victory without a little death?

Ha.

I was somewhat disappointed that Snippy-Sniper- the man with blue eyes who feared me- was not in my squad. He had skill- nothing compared to me, of course- but he would have made a useful minion.

I had been leading my minions for a year or so, and we were winning by far. On this day, my troops were moving across conquered territory to new battlefields. I was to travel by plane. I was too valuable for anything less than first class.

My pilot was Hatchenson. Now, _he_ was the definition of a loyal minion. He rejoined the Air Force to fight alongside me. He dropped the nukes on the enemy with great skill. My luck ensured he never missed.

I sat in the cockpit of the plane beside the pilot. Both of us were wearing gasmasks- necessities of nuclear warfare, my trainer had told me. The plane, the _Flying Cow_, was rather cramped, but a deliciously dangerous machine nonetheless.

As we flew, Chris turned to me. "It's a pretty rough war, eh?" He commented. "But you'll stop it- I know it!" I sipped my tea through a straw I had acquired, and pondered his words.

"It iz not zat hard to be in zee thick of it as one would think," I said slowly. "I like to think of it as a game. You beat zee enemy, win zee war, and fly off to candyland."

"It's an awfully violent game of candyland, then," Chris said. "But I guess if it solves the problem…" He fell silent, focusing on flying the plane.

"So far it has. At least for me." I told him.

"But how do you cope with all the death on the battlefield?" Chris asked.

"I have desensitized myself."

"I guess that's what you have to do, huh."

"Of course! I am zee glorious Captain! I can't go out and save zee world if I get all weepy over an enemy corpse, can I?" I laughed.

"I'm glad to see you've finally realized you're our savior, Captain," Chris said happily.

"Savior? I prefer ZIS term," I said, handing him a card. It had my image on one side, and the word "MESSIAH" on the other. I had found it under my pillow this morning. Hatchenson looked at it thoughtfully.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the plane jolted violently. I looked out the cockpit window to find that we were on fire and losing altitude rapidly.

"THEY'RE SHOOTING AT US!" Hatchenson shouted, springing into action.

"How did you not notice we were over enemy land?" I growled. Boobish minions! Do they notice NOTHING?

"Oh, forget it! We're as good as dead now!" The pilot wailed.

"No, we aren't! Am I not zee magnificent Captain? I will teach those spineless wiggling Conspirators a lesson!" I announced.

The rest happened very quickly. I got the door open, grabbed the terrified pilot by the arm, and jumped.

**Pilot POV**

OW. What had just-

Then I remembered. Captain had jumped out of the plane, and had dragged me with him.

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in some sort of an office, tied to a chair in front of a desk. My right leg was in extreme pain- I guess I had broken it. But where was my Captain?

"RELEASE ME, YOU WORTHLESS MONKEYS!" I heard someone shout. Yep, that was Captain all right. And he didn't sound too pleased.

He and two gas-masked guards entered the room. Captain had his arms tied behind his back.

"Watch what you say, Seven," the one on the left cautioned. "We're armed, and you aren't. So I suggest you shush up real fast."

"You cannot kill zee Captain, you imbeciles! And to say I'm unarmed- pish-posh! My weapon iz over zere!" He laughed, and motioned with his head towards the desk. His mug, filled with hot liquid, sat upon it. The guards exchanged what must have been a disbelieving glance; it was hard to tell with gasmasks.

Another gasmask-wearing man entered the office. He sat down at the desk.

"Show some respect, Seven. This is the head of the ICM. He came out here because of you- he wanted to kill you personally." The other guard said.

The head Conspirator looked very intimidating. He was tall and looked very strong- the kind of guy that could squash me like a bug. Captain better think of something quick! We had to get out of here.

He spoke in a deep voice, with a slight accent that I couldn't identify. "So, you're the Directorate's-ah, _weapon_?"

"Unbind me, and zen I might talk!" Captain snarled. I had never seen him this angry. He was scary to the extreme.

"Do as the prisoner says, men," The Conspirator said. "He'll be useless otherwise." The guards undid the knot that bound his hands. I watched, trying not to move. I didn't want them to realize I was awake and feed me to the lions or something like that.

Captain immediately grabbed his mug off the desk. He took a sip from the straw and spoke.

"You must cease and desist RIGHT NOW." He said, his voice venomous.

"The war? Oh, I think not. You see, we haven't yet won," The boss sneered.

"AND YOU WON'T!"

"Not with you out of the picture."

"And half zee world, too!" Captain yelled. "So let's say you win, and what do you get? A poisonous world full of angry subjects who'll rebel at zee drop of a hat! How stupid, to conquer ZAT!" He laughed.

"Where the hell did they find an idiot like you?" The boss said. He was losing his patience.

Captain laughed again. "You boobs don't even realize!" He said maniacally, and removed his gasmask. "Jogging your worm's memory yet?" He cackled. His bright purple eyes were wide. He looked crazy.

"You-" The Conspirator stammered.

"You created your doom, idiots!" Captain bellowed. "Genetic engineering? I got out while I could! And now I'm zee Captain, and NOBODY. DEFIES. CAPTAIN!" He screamed, a look of pure anger and hatred on his face. I looked at him, awestruck, as he threw the scorching hot liquid at the man. The Head Conspirator recoiled in anguish. I'd have died of fright if it was me in that situation.

"Now," Captain said evenly, "I can summon my bombers to even zis out. Or you can quit while you're ahead and fail miserably later. Your choice- because clearly you're in no fit state to fight back yourself." He was right. One of the guards had passed out, and the other had run out of the room. The boss spluttered. He hadn't been wearing a coat or gloves, and the liquid had soaked thorough his shirt and hit his arms. I had spilled boiling water on myself as a kid, and I know it hurts like hell. Captain tea is probably twice as bad!

"I am making the worst mistake of my life in saying this, Captain," The boss choked out, "but my life would be far shorter if I didn't. I will call back my troops. I surrender. I would not want to rule a dead world- especially not one with demons like you in it."

Captain stepped back, a triumphant grin on his face. He went over to untie the ropes tying me to the chair. I couldn't walk, so I just sat there, rubbing my rope-burned arms in shock. I received a message through ANNET-

_:Minions- The International Conspiracy has surrendered. We have won the war!:_

I grinned, realizing he had sent it out to the whole world.

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><p><strong>AN:** And that is how Captain won the war. And lost his mind. And how the Flying Cow thing happened. It's not over yet…


End file.
